


tiddies go perish

by The_Jade_Parade



Category: The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: (again so disappointed in this community), (why is this not a tag), Birthday Presents, Family Fluff, Gen, Neurodivergent Frodo Baggins, Short One Shot, Trans Bilbo Baggins, Trans Frodo Baggins, bilbo is sarcastic but proud, frodo is literally so pure
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-17
Updated: 2021-01-17
Packaged: 2021-03-15 11:14:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28812516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Jade_Parade/pseuds/The_Jade_Parade
Summary: Frodo gets an unexpected present from Bilbo.
Relationships: Bilbo Baggins & Frodo Baggins, implied Frodo/Sam
Kudos: 18





	tiddies go perish

Frodo pried himself away from the party and followed his uncle into Bag End.

“What is it?” he asked.

“I wanted to give you my present in private,” Bilbo called, from his bedroom. He was lo, from the sound of it. When Frodo walked in, he was holding a garment of clothing with both hands.

Frodo stared unbelievingly. “What in the name of …” - he looked up - “Bilbo! You really shouldn’t have gotten me this,” he said, and hastily added, “a waistcoat would’ve sufficed.” Of course, he was only saying it politely. In truth, he couldn’t be happier.

Bilbo clutched his belly in a Bilbo-y laugh. “I’m your uncle Bilbo! You should know better.” He pressed the binder to Frodo, inviting him to take it. For a full minute, Frodo looked at the thing in wonder, like an ancient relic. His gaze reminded Bilbo of his obsessions as a little child, and how he would look at his favorite rocks like that all the time (that one never quite came to an end, he just got better at hiding it because Bilbo kept telling him to stop fishing them out of the pond). Frodo had a kind of special, fond look that he only used on things he _really_ liked, such as the rocks which he kept in a drawer, or his favorite waistcoat that he only wore to special occasions, or the boy next door.

Frodo put his hand over his mouth, it slipped to his chin, then down to his hip. “I don’t know what to say,” he sputtered. “Thank you, sincerely.”

That bit of sincerity threw Bilbo off, and he had to mentally remind himself not to make a gagging sound he was too old and supposedly mature to make. Instead, he clicked his cheek like _tchsk_ and mumbled something rubbish. “Oh! Well …” He paused, opened his mouth, and closed it again. “Come on then, try it on! I didn’t spend all this money for you to just hold it!”

Frodo’s smile quickly became large and infectious. He jumped out of his shirt and gladly took the garment from his uncle’s hand (Bilbo looked away).

Suddenly, Frodo’s smile flickered.

A moment of silence passed, and Bilbo asked, “Is anything wrong? Can I look?”

Frodo shifted. “I … don’t know how to put it on,” he admitted, and hung his head embarrassedly.

“I’ll help you!” Bilbo replied, more quickly than he probably should have. Frodo gave the okay, and Bilbo shook with excitement. _He was going to help him put on his first binder!_

Frodo lifted his arms so Bilbo could pull the binder over it. He was extra careful not to touch Frodo’s body, as his hands were shakier than he remembered (was he that old already?). When they got to Frodo’s head, however, it got stuck, so Frodo, like a giggling, wriggling fool, said he’d take care of it from here.

Once he was somewhat presentable, he hopped in front of the nearest mirror, and his mouth fell open. He looked _good_ , and felt like he could conquer the earth.

Bilbo ran over with his shirt in hand. “Silly boy,” he said with a chuckle, “you left the straps all twisted,” and fixed them for Frodo. Handed him the shirt, he said, “Here, let’s see how you look.”

“I love how I look already,” Frodo said, eyes undeviating from his reflection, twisting and posing, admiring himself.

Bilbo smiled wider. “Well, you’ll love it even more with a shirt on.”

After buttoning his shirt back up and insisting that he doesn’t need Bilbo’s help, Frodo looked in the mirror again. “Well?” said Bilbo.

Frodo gaped incredulously at himself, then at Bilbo. “I’d marry him.”

Bilbo laughed loud and hearty, and Frodo giggled along. He clutched his chest and thanked Bilbo like he really meant it. They were both beaming, only Bilbo was with more pride than ever before at his nephew. Frodo backtracked and collapsed onto the bed, writhing.

“Do you like it?” Bilbo asked from above.

Frodo’s throat made a sound of happiness, and Bilbo’s smile grew yet again. This boy reminded him so much of himself.

“Well,” he said after a minute rubbing his hands together, “enjoy the rest of the party.” With a flourish, he produced his pipe. “I’ll be around if you need me, but I’ll be smoking, so don’t bother.”

Frodo had closed his eyes. He made no answer; his smile was enough.

Bilbo closed the door behind him and leaned his head back against it. The smile would not leave him, and it was getting a bit irritating for his cheeks. He felt giddy and proud and stupid all at once, and it was damn annoying. He gave a sharp exhale.

Oh, whatever. It was for love. It was for his boy, and it was worth it.


End file.
